


"A 60-Second Camping Trip"

by berlynn_wohl



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: M/M, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Urination
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-03
Updated: 2014-07-03
Packaged: 2018-02-07 07:50:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1890858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/berlynn_wohl/pseuds/berlynn_wohl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Will and Hannibal are two manly men who do manly things together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	"A 60-Second Camping Trip"

Will didn’t feel like cooking a proper meal when he got home, so he just heated up a frozen dinner for himself, intending to spend the rest of the evening enjoying some quality time with a glass of whiskey (maybe two) and a book. He wasn’t looking for anything overly cerebral tonight, so he plucked a Joseph Heller novel, which he’d already read three times, off of the shelf, and plowed through eight chapters before deciding it was time to try to get some sleep. 

All through the evening, the dogs shuffled and snuffled around him, mostly behaving themselves. Before he could get into bed, he had to let them out one last time, lest they wake him up in the middle of the night with their whining. When he moved toward the door, the dogs all leapt up and followed their master eagerly. 

The door swung open and a veritable canine torrent poured from the house, seeming to carry Will with it. Will ambled across the porch and down the steps, regarding the dogs fondly as they scattered, then circled widely around to the side of the house. Back here, the light from the porch did not penetrate the trees and shrubbery that surrounded it, and he was shrouded in darkness. 

He stood in the grass, in the shadows, gazing out at the open field. Whip-poor-wills were chirping not far away, and from further out, well into the woods, came the scream of a barred owl. Besides that and a few crickets, all was quiet in the cool night. 

Will looked up at the sky, with its broad sprays of starlight, as he unzipped his jeans and reached inside to draw out his penis. 

Peeing outside was just another part of why he loved living so remotely – it was a dependable little zen moment where he could feel peaceful and primal, taking deep breaths of fresh air whilst surrounded by wilderness, satisfying his bodily urge and feeling connected to nature. Sometimes – when the weather was just a little warmer than it was now – he would push his jeans and boxers a little further down and aside, and let his balls feel the breeze as well. 

It also made him feel very masculine, to be able to just… _unleash_ where he wished. He particularly liked going outside first thing after waking up, because he could just shamble out here, and didn’t have to worry about trying to aim with his morning hard-on. 

For now, he just looked up at the moon, and listened to the crickets, and exhaled serenely. When he was empty, he gave himself a few shakes, then put himself away. He zipped up and strolled back around to the front of the house, whistling for the dogs, who came running. 

 

*****

 

Will heard Hannibal’s Bentley on the gravel outside, and cursed aloud. He’d thought he would have enough time to be ready to go when Hannibal arrived. He hadn’t even gotten his shoes on yet. 

Will squeezed through the front door, so as not to let any of the dogs out. “You’re early,” he said. 

“My apologies. I had a prior engagement this morning, which concluded slightly ahead of schedule, so I thought I’d just proceed to Wolf Trap.” 

“It’s not a problem,” Will said, “except I still need to give the dogs a run before I leave. Would you mind waiting?” 

“Not at all.” 

So Will swung the door wide, and seven dogs hurtled across the porch and scattered across the yard. 

“It’s a lovely day for a walk,” Hannibal suggested. “While we wait for the dogs.” 

Will nodded in agreement, and they walked fifty yards or so into the field while the dogs conducted their various and sundry dog affairs. 

As they approached the edge of the woods, Will felt a twinge in his bladder. They weren’t so far from the house, but he hated the distraction that the urge brought. “Ah… listen,” he said, discomfited to bring up the subject in front of his excruciatingly well-mannered companion. He gestured in the direction of the nearby copse of trees. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ve just gotta take a leak, real quick.” 

At this point, in the company of any other guy, Will would have just left to take care of things without waiting for a response, but Hannibal was looking at him as though he didn’t understand, which froze Will in his tracks. 

Then Hannibal said, “Why bother running off into the woods? Are you afraid that anyone will see?” Which answered one question but raised an entirely different one. 

Will laughed in surprise. “Well… _you’re_ here.” 

Hannibal shrugged. “Now that you mention it, I’m feeling nature’s call as well.” He moved to unbutton his jacket, and then Will had about three-eighths of a second to decide to follow along, on the grounds that he absolutely must not lose his cool in front of this man. In all likelihood this was just some European thing. And even if it wasn’t, Will knew that the correct etiquette in this situation couldn’t possibly be to flip out about it. 

Standing nearly elbow-to-elbow with Hannibal, Will dipped into his opened fly and took out his prick. He knew he should keep his eyes straight ahead – that was how these things were done – but it was barely a moment before he gave in to the temptation to sneak a glance at what Hannibal had going on. He wanted to see if it was as big as he’d imagined it was. It turned out to be nothing staggering, but it was perfectly respectable. And uncircumcised; he caught sight of Hannibal drawing the foreskin back from the slit, before laying out a long, powerful stream. 

Will had feared that another man’s presence would give him a shy bladder, but seeing Hannibal’s piss flowing prompted him to begin, himself. 

“Living out here, you must be able to do this all the time,” Hannibal remarked. 

“Pretty much,” Will admitted. 

“Although I am not inclined to guilt or shame, I must confess, doing this in an open field in broad daylight does make me feel very…naughty.” 

“It can be kind of exhilarating,” Will agreed, then cringed, thinking, _Oh God, now we’re having a conversation about it_. 

He couldn’t _not_ dwell on it, now. He thought about how he was just a pivot and a half-step away from Hannibal. He imagined closing that distance still holding his prick in his hand, pressing it against Hannibal’s, rubbing their wet piss-slits together. Maybe going for a kiss, if Hannibal was into that. 

This intrusive thought made Will shiver, and his prick jerked, resulting in a telltale hitch in his stream. If Hannibal noticed, he said nothing about it. Will buried the thought; it was for later. 

From the corner of his eye, Will could see Hannibal’s wrist twitch as he shook himself off and put himself away. The idea of such a genteel man engaging in such an indecorous and mundanely male gesture gave him another jolt. Standing next to him, it made Will feel like, when he did it himself, he was probably not doing it _properly_. 

“Where do you wash your hands, when you relieve yourself out here?” Hannibal inquired as he zipped up. 

Will shrugged. “I just don’t piss on my hands.” 

Hannibal chuckled, but pulled a handkerchief from his pocket nonetheless. They walked together back in the direction of the house, watching the dogs frolicking.


End file.
